The Trap
by chronicler-of-knuckles
Summary: So, here's the bet: How will Heath die? Bleed to death? Drown? Shot? Or will his brothers save him in time?


My first BV fanfic. Please, review.

* * *

Lightening cut across the sky. Thunder rumbled across through the hills like an avalanche.

Audra's mare side stepped, winning nervously.

"Easy, girl, easy." Audra cooed, running a hand down the long elegant neck. She glanced wishfully at Heath's steadfast mare, Gal. No, she would never give up beautiful Lady with her long, glorious mane and fancy high stepping trot… but, sometimes, she wished Lady was a bit more tough and rough like the cow ponies her brothers rode.

"How you doin', little sister?" Heath wanted to know, wearily watching Lady prance. What ever that girl was thinking riding into a storm…

Audra Barkley….

Any other explanation? The child was set and determined to give her brothers all heart attacks long before their time.

"Oh, Heath…" she started in that same old way, a playful smile on her lips, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little rain."

Heath turned an eye up to the black sky. It was one in the afternoon and it looked more like ten at night. Hell, he was a rough and tough, born under the open sky cowboy, and he had been heading just as fast as he could back home.

That was until he spotted little sister and delegate Lady heading the wrong direction up the far side of a ravine, right into the eye of the storm.

Little wild cat…

And he could have been home by now. Little brandy, dry socks, warm fire place…

Little hell bent wild cat…!

"Heath?" Audra called to him, gazing down at the creak bed that snaked through the hills they were riding along. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Heath wondered. He pulled Gal up beside Lady, and looked down.

Swishing this way and that in the bubbling creak was some grayish cloth. He was sure he saw a big, dark letter on it… a W….maybe…

Heath shook his head. "We'll check it out tomorrow… after the storm passes…""Heath Barkley!" Audra laughed. "You are afraid of a little rain." Turning Lady down the steep, muddy embankment, she urged the frightened mare down for a closer look.

"Audra!" Heath called after her, but knew there was no use. Grumbling under his breath, he let Gal follow.

"What did you say, brother dear?" she sang back to him.

"Oh, nothing, little sister. Just wondering if it's too late to trade you in for a hell bent wild cat."

"Why, Heath Barkley!" But then the girl was off her horse and scooping up a piece of cloth from the side of the creek. "Look! I think it's a piece of bag… terry cloth…"

Heath was already on the ground, taking the torn bit. Now he knew what that W was. "Wells Fargo." he breathed. Instantly his eyes were scanning the hills around them. "Back up on Lady, Audra. Time to go."

"Wells Fargo?" she asked innocently. Tilting her head this way and that, she thought hard on that. Then her eyes went big. "You mean the stage robbery couple days back? You think this…" She spun about and looked for the cloth in the creek. "Maybe they dropped a bag."

"Not likely." Heath mumbled, grabbing her arm before she could wade into the water. "The marshals were headed in the other direction. South-West, not North." He neglected to say that those were the most murderous, hard assed Marshals he had ever seen. One of the big reasons Jarrod gave a whole hearted "no, I think not" when asked if the Barkley boys would join the hunt..

"So, then?" Audra pressed. "What is that?" She waved her free arm at the cloth whipping in the water.

Her brother sighed. She wasn't going to go unless he got his socks wet. "I'll get it. And then you ride home just as fast as four legs can carry you. Alright?"

Audra smiled. "Of course, brother Heath."

Heath groaned. Shaking his head at his luck… 'course it wasn't brother Nick or brother Jarrod who happened along their wayward sister. "Hell bent, wild…"

"I'm telling mother!" she challenged with tease.

Heath glared at her. "Wild Cat!" he accused, but, none the less, turned and stepped into the cold water.

The creek was deeper and faster than it looked from the surface. His first step found slippery stones rolling across the bottom, making it difficult to find good footing. Carefully Heath slid his booted feet until he was standing in the middle. Pulling off his glove, he reached down, the icy water sending instant cramps through his fingers, up his wrist. Grabbing the cloth, Heath turned to show his sister the torn and empty bag.

"See, sis? No fortune…"

Lightening struck, thunder boomed.

Nervous Lady reared up, sending Audra tumbling to the ground with a startled cry.

"Audra!" Heath cried, taking a step back to his sister.

Something moved under foot. Heath glanced down only to see teeth coming up, closing around his leg. His vision exploded in flashes of light, pain racing up his leg to engulf his entire body.

* * *

Nick Barkley paced the room, swatting his hat against his leg. "Those two…" he grumbled.

"Nick, please…" Victoria chided her son, purposefully keeping her eyes on her needle point. Letting her son know that she was just as concern for her wayward children, wandering out there in such a nasty storm, would only send Nick right out into that same storm… a third child…

"Well, where are those two?" Nick demanded, swatting his hat again, as if he was trying to beat the answer out of it. "This damn weather… And those two…. Two steps out of this house and they find themselves neck deep in some sort of trouble."

Jarrod chuckled as he poured himself a brandy. "Seems to me that the trouble with those two are that they are exactly like their big brother." He raised his glass toward Nick, just incase he wasn't sure which big brother Jarrod meant.

Victoria shared in the chuckle, finally putting her needle point down. "Oh, Audra and Heath… cut from the same cloth…"

"Humph!" Nick growled. "There's a combination… Silk and boot leather…." But then his eyes narrowed. "Hey, what you mean… like their big brother? You don't see me out there, hip deep in mud and rain and trouble!"

Jarrod smiled. "No… no, not yet I don't." He nodded to the hat in his hand, the gun on his hip. "Though you do look the part… ready to head in that direction at the drop of a hat."

"Humph! Wise ass." Nick accused, turning away, thumbs in his belt. He quickly glanced over his shoulder at his mother. "Sorry, mother." he mumbled an apology for his language.

Victoria shook her head, chuckling at her boys.

Jarrod laughed.

Nick spun on his brother, shaking a finger at him. "You weren't laughing so hard when those marshals came about. Running around, ordering us about…. You know they're still out and about, looking for any reason to…"

"That's enough, Nick." Jarrod warned, all humor suddenly gone. A quick glance at their mother convinced him that that conversation had gone on long enough.

Victoria was sitting straight up, her back ridged, her delicate hands clutching her needle point.

Nick looked at his mother. One look and he was done. He never wanted to see her worry. "Yea… well…. Heath's got a head on his shoulders. He probably ran across Audra and the two of them are held up, waiting out the rain. Yea, that's it."

Victoria licked her lips and offered a weak smile. "I'm sure." she agreed, turning her attention back to her needle point.

"Yes, of course." Jarrod growled, before hiding his own concerned frown behind a swallow of brandy.

* * *

"Heath! Oh, please, Heath! Say something!"

Icy water rushed over him like a slap in the face. Gasping for air, Heath shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Audra…?" he gagged.

"Oh, Heath!" Audra cried with relief. Splattered with mud, she hiked up her skirt and stumbled out into the creek after him. "What happened?" she wanted to know. Looking down at the water, her eyes grew even bigger. "There's blood…"

"Blood?" Heath's confused mind slowly woke.

And he wished it hadn't.

Pain ripped through his leg, bringing tears to his eyes.

Grinding his teeth against the pain, Heath pushed himself up into a sitting position. The creak washed over his legs, carrying away washes of blood. He tried to drag his wounded leg up, where he could get a look at it, but something heavy was latched around his boot, stabbing into his calf with ripping teeth. Heath bit back a cry, doubling forward over his leg. "Damn." he hissed.

"What's wrong?" Audra asked, her voice high with fear. Ignoring her own discomfort, she dropped to her knees in the water, reaching for her brother.

Eyes squeezed shut, Heath reached out, grabbing her outstretched hand. Biting his lip, he reached down with his other hand, traced his way down his leg. With a hiss, he found where the steel teeth were buried into his flesh. "Ah, hell…" he groaned.

"What? What is it?" Audra wanted to know.

Heath took a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to find his courage for the girl. Finally, swallowing hard, Heath lifted his head. "There's a… a bear trap wrapped around my foot."

Audra squeezed his hand. "Oh, no, Heath."

"Hey, Sis, I'm okay." he lied, offering a half smile. "Look… I need you… can you find the trap… you know how they work?"

The girl nodded. She opened her mouth to tell him about that time their father had showed her how the evil things mangle small animals, but a clap of thunder snapped her mouth shut, drawing her eyes sky ward.

"It's okay… okay…" Heath tried to convince himself. "Feel down to the base… find the latch…"

Audra smiled her best, nodding again. She can do this. She can help her brother. She can save him. Her chin up, her back straight, she felt her way down his leg. She gasped when she felt the sharp teeth. Her eyes snapped to Heath who, with a shaky smile, nodded his encouragement. She felt along the big, steel jaws to the base. Found the small, round disk…

"I found it!" she cried in triumph, showing Heath a great, big smile.

Swallowing back a wave of dizziness, Heath nodded. "Good girl. Press it for all your worth. I'm gonna try to lift my foot out."

Again she nodded. With a deep breath, she pressed on the latch with all her might.

The teeth jiggled in Heath's leg.

Heath gasped, squeezing his eyes closed, rolling forward.

"Sorry! Sorry! Heath…" Audra released the latch to grab his arms.

But Heath pushed her back. Setting his jaw, he looked up at her. "No… keep at it!" he managed through clenched teeth. Holding his breath, he gripped the edges of the jaws. "Everything you got!"

Audra hesitated, not wanting to cause him any more pain… but what choice did she have. Licking her lips, she reached back down. "Three… two…" She closed her eyes. "One!" And pressed down.

Head down, Heath pulled at the jaws, the sharp edges cutting into his hands. He didn't know how long he pulled, how long Audra pushed, but, finally it was too much. With a cry he released his hold, the teeth sinking back into his leg. Falling back, holding his cut hands to his chest, Heath gasped for breath.

"Oh, Heath…" Audra cried, scrambling back up to hold Heath's head in her lap. "What do I do? What do I do?" she pleaded.

Trembling, Heath forced his eyes open, looking up at her. "Audra…" He coughed. What to do? He looked up pass her. Rain drops had started to fall. Squeezing his eyes closed again, he forced himself to sit up. "Gotta… Gotta stop the blood."

"Here." Audra pulled the scarf from around her neck and crawled around to the leg again. She tied it around his leg, just above the teeth. But she wasn't happy with the job. "Can't you ride back with the trap on?"

Heath shook his head. "It's anchored." Blinking away the tears, he looked at his little sister. "Audra, you gotta go."

She balked. "No! No, Heath! I won't leave you! I won't! I just won't!"

"Audra!" Heath grabbed her arm, jerking her toward him. "You have to! I can't ride out of here. I can't get my foot free. You have to get Nick. Do you understand me? You need to get help!"

"But that'll take hours… and the storm…"

"Don't argue, Audra!" Heath snapped.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Still, she was a Barkley! Shoving her chin out, she rose to her feet. Grabbing the slicker from Gal's saddle, she hurried back and wrapped it around his shoulders. "I'll be back." she promised.

Heath gave her that crocked smiled. "I ain't goin' anywhere." he assured.

Audra looked down at him a moment longer, then spun about and raced for Lady.

"Be careful!" Heath called after her, but he wasn't sure she heard him as the rain began to come down in earnest.

With one last look back, the daughter Barkley kicked Lady into a run, heading for home.

* * *

"That's it!" Nick growled with one last look at the clock. Slapping his hat to his head, he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair where it had been waiting.

"Nick…" Victoria started, rising up from her seat in front of the fire place.

"Now, Mother, I waited a good long time." Nick let her know, snapping his coat over his shoulders. "It'll be dark in another hour. That damn storm is kicking up a mess out there."

Victoria opened her mouth, but Nick wasn't done yet.

Waving a hand, he shook his head. "Yea, Heath's looked after himself just fine enough long enough. But trouble seems to hunt for him. And Audra… Well, she hunts for trouble… by the time either of them shows up they'll be bed sick for days." He shook a finger at his mother. "And if that boy thinks he's gonna waste good working days lying about in bed 'cause he didn't have the sense to get in out of the rain…."

"Yes, Nick, I know." Victoria interrupted with an amused smile. "This is a working ranch." she mimicked. She leaned to the side, looking pass her son.

Frowning, Nick turned.

Jarrod stood in the door way. Already wearing his slicker, rifle in hand, hat on head, he smiled. "Well, Brother Nick, I was wondering how long I was going to have to wait around for you."

Nick's eyes snapped to his mother, who just lowered her gaze, hiding her smirk. "Humph!" he huffed, before spinning about and shoving pass his brother and headed for the front door.

Jarrod chuckled. Looking at his mother, he took a deep breath. "Don't worry, Mother. We'll find your lost lambs and chase them right on back into their nice, warm beds."

"Jarrod! Mother!" came Nick's bellow from the front porch.

Jarrod chuckled again. "Impatient, isn't he?" And he turned and headed out the front door.

Victoria sighed and followed her eldest out. But as soon as she stepped out onto the porch, she gasped, grabbing her son's arm. "Audra!"

Nick was lifting a soaked through Audra off Lady's back.

Jarrod held the door open. "What happened?" he demanded.

"Little thing's teeth are clattering." Nick complained as his sister nuzzled under his chin, clutching at his coat. "Alright, alright, I got you." he assured, carrying her into the sitting room and to the couch.

Victoria hurried ahead, putting a pillow under her daughter's head. "Salas! Something hot. Quickly!" she called as dropped down to her knees beside the couch as Nick laid the girl down. "Audra, darling… Audra, what happened?" she wanted to know, brushing back the waves of wet hair until she could see her daughter's rain streaked face.

"Oh, Mother…" the girl cried, grasping at her hand, shivering. "I didn't think I would ever get home."

"She's covered in mud, head to toe." Nick grumbled, stepping back to dust himself off. Not that he was concerned with the dirt on himself. But on Audra? That girl was so lady, dirt didn't dare touch her. "And Lady's limping like she's been ridden hard." He looked at his big brother.

Jarrod leaned over the back of the couch, offering his mother a small glass of brandy. "Maybe the storm spooked Lady." he suggested.

Nick shook his head, but didn't say anything.

Victoria lifted Audra's head just enough to slip a little brandy pass her lips.

Audra coughed, but the liquor seemed to bring her about. Her bright blue eyes went big as if she was seeing them for the first time. "Oh, Mother!" she cried again. "Heath! Oh, Heath!" she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I didn't want to leave him! But he made me…"

"Leave him!" Nick's head snapped about. "Leave him where? Why'd you have to leave him? What wrong with Heath?"

"Nick, please!" Victoria snapped, silencing him.

Audra grabbed her mother's arm. "But, Mother, you have to save him!"

"Audra, honey." Jarrod calmed her with a pat on her shoulder. "Just take a deep breath and tell us what happened."

She looked up at him. "It was terrible, Jarrod. I was so stupid. Heath told me to go home. But I saw something in the water and I made him go see what it was. And it was horrible. It was a trap. A bear trap and Heath stepped in it…" She dropped her face in her hands, sobbing.

Jarrod rose up. "A bear trap…?"

Audra shook her head. "He's in the creek! I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't open the trap and he was bleeding so badly and…"

"Audra, please, where?" Victoria hurried to say, trying to focus her daughter. "Where is Heath?"

She looked at her mother, wiping at her eyes. "The North Bend Creek… maybe a mile down from the old hunter's trail."

"Mother…" Jarrod started.

"Go." Victoria looked up at him. "Bring my boy home."

Jarrod spun about and ran after Nick who was already out the front door. When he caught up, a hand was leading their saddled horses up to them. Swing up on his horse, Jarrod looked up at the rain. "You know, Nick, in this storm, that creek is likely a river… and growing fast."

"Yea, I know." Nick grumbled. Not wasting any more time, he kicked his horse, riding head long into the storm.

* * *

No matter how Heath moved, pain struck up his leg, cramping through his gut, tightening his chest, burning his throat with bile, blearing his vision with tears…

All in all, he wasn't feeling all that great.

There was some little blessings. The rising water was icy, numbing. He couldn't feel his toes any more. His finger tips, despite the gloves that protected them, were quickly fading away. The cold was helping to keep the swelling in his leg down, slow the blood flow…

'Course, slowed blood flow wasn't all that great for the rest of his body. His head pounded, a pulsing beat that seemed to be keeping time with his slowed pulse. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth, but if he relaxed his jaw, his teeth clattered with nearly breakable force.

Well, hell… next time Mrs. Barkley asks "Don't you want your heavier coat?" he's gonna say "Yes, ma'am, yes, indeed, ma'am, anything you say, ma'am, you know what you're talkin' 'bout ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am." Heath whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes against the very uncomfortable world around him.

His mind muddled through what to do.

What to do…

What to do…..

What to do….

He had already done everything he could think to do. The trap was too strong. He couldn't open it. It had been anchored too deep. He couldn't pull it free. The chain was too thick. He couldn't shoot it apart. He was too stubborn. He couldn't just lie down and give up.

"Looky, looky, Ruggy." chuckled a voice. "We got ourselves a marshal."

Forcing his eyes open, Heath looked over his shoulder to the far side of the creek.

A man wrapped in a slicker, rain water poring off the corners of a big ten gallon hat, leaned over his big horse, rifle resting across his knees. "Ain't that a sight to be had." he whistled.

A smaller man stood beside his own horse, a pistol hung at the ready in his hand. "Damn, but I'd thought he'd be bigger."

Blinking the rain out of his eyes, Heath looked again, being sure of what he was looking at. "Hello?"

"Howdy, there Marshal." answered the little man. "So's where's that mean ass partner of yers? He leave you here to drown so's he can take us in all on his lonesome?"

Heath frowned. "Marshal…?" He shook his head. "I ain't a marshal. Names Heath… Heath Barkley. Got my foot caught…" He stopped short of asking for help. His mind might be working a bit slow, but he saw more trouble in these two than aid.

And then he saw the Wells Fargo bags hanging from the saddles.

These were the robbers!

They thought they had caught themselves one of the marshals hunting them.

They thought they were gonna kill him.

They were gonna kill him if he didn't figure something quick.

"Not a marshal, huh?" the big one chuckled. "What sorta idiot goes wondering out an about in this weather without huntin' a body down?"

Heath smirked. "An idiot with a little sister." he grumbled.

"Sister, now?" He looked around. "I don't see no sister about. How about you Ruggy?"

"No, Tink… 'less he's a talkin' about that little, shaggy pony over yonder."

Heath glanced up at Gal.

True and faithful, that little, shaggy pony of his laid back her ears as she glared across the creek at the two strangers. She pawed at the mud, snorting a warning.

"Well, I'll be damned." Tink laughed. "If'n she been a dog, I'd sure bet she would be barin' teeth and givin' us a big, throaty growl."

"Sure as you're damned, Tink, that's a mean, killin' pony of a mean, killin' marshal." Ruggy eyed Gal suspiciously.

Tink waved his rifle at Heath. "What say we just bore him through and get back on our way. I'm tired of bein' all wet and cold."

The little outlaw turned his attention back to the Barkley boy. "Nay… sure be we put a slug in him and his partner's gonna be on us like… well, like a damn bear trap on some fool's leg." He tucked his pistol back in the holster. "Nay… I say we tuck up high and wait for that other bad ass to come along. They wanna hunt us together, they might as well die together." He leaned forward. "Whatya say to that, Marshal?"

"Look! I already told you!" Heath snapped. "I am not a marshal! I'm Heath Barkley! This is the Barkley Ranch!"

"Really?" Ruggy swatted rain water from his eyes. "Now what'd a high and mighty Barkley be doin' out here in this miserable weather?"

Heath ground his teeth, wondering how far his sister had gotten in the last couple hours. Was she home yet? Was she safe? Or was the little head strong blond wandering about, trying to save Heath on her own?

"I was riding the creeks." he lied. "Wanting to see how the water rises here abouts."

"Bull." Tink huffed. "A Barkley knows his land. Been raised here all his damn, high fluten life. You're a damn Marshal. Craig or Jones…. Either one, don't matter. You've got more notches than most of them men you've gunned down."

"Now, Tink, you know Marshals don't gun down men." Ruggy growled. "They just accidentally shoot them in the back while's they attempt an escape. Just like you planned for us, didn't you… Craig. That's right, ain't it. Craig was the little one. The thinker."

"Little guys are like that." Tink pointed out. "See's Ruggy is little and he does our thinking. He knew you'd be hot on out trail. Knew you'd stop an' take a good look at that there float. He knew good that we'd catch ourselves a Marshal."

"I told you I ain't no Marshal!" Heath yelled.

"Yea, yea, yea." Ruggy grumbled, turning his back on him.

Heath reached for his pistol.

"Hey! Don't you do that!" Tink snapped, his rifle coming up.

Heath froze.

Ruggy turned slowly and smiled at him. "You really wanna go and shootin' that iron, Marshal? That waters up to your waist now. Seems those guns of yours have been sitting in the wet awhile."

Tink chuckled. "Get not much more than them little clicky sounds… that if'n it just don't blow his hand right off."

"Still…" Ruggy waved a hand. "Let's have them. You take that lefty of yours and toss us the belt and all. You hear, Marshal?"

Grinding his teeth, Heath undid his belt and tossed his gun back onto the shore. "You're making a mistake. I don't know who you are. I don't care. I'm not a…"

"Yea, yea, yea. You ain't no Marshal." Tink laughed as his partner scooped up the guns. "We'll just see when the other one comes riding up to the rescue. Shoot him right out of the saddle. But don't you worry none. We'll say our sorrys if'n we don't find no star on him."

"Just be hoping he gets here soon." Ruggy noted. He looked back at Heath. "Rain might be slowin' down a tad, but that water just keeps on rising. 'Nother hour or two, an' you're gonna be one drowned rat." That said, he started back up into the tree line, Tink following, disappearing.

Heath's head snapped about, searching… searching for anything.

If Audra did make it home, his brothers would be coming on in to his rescue… only to get shot all to hell.

If she was out there trying to help him herself, she was gonna get shot all to hell.

If no one was coming, he was going to drown.

If it was the Marshals that showed up, well, Heath was gonna be smack dab in the middle of a shooting gallery with not a soul in sight who'd give a damn if he took a stray bullet.

Gritting his teeth, Heath doubled up his fists. He'll be damned if he was going to just sit here, freezing his britches off in a creek while his brothers get gunned down!

* * *

North Bend Creek.

Most of the year it was just a little thing, ankle deep, just fast enough to carry a child's leaf sail boat down until it catches on some over hanging bush.

Then the first winter rains hit.

It wasn't the rain that fell on the creek itself that was the concern. Shucks, there were plenty of creeks in the valley that could swell up a few feet, run a little faster, little deeper.

But the North Bend Creek was on off shot from an icy mountain river. When it rained only an inch or so down in the valley, the mountain river sent waves of rushing, icy, mountain water pouring down into its little off shoots… into the North Bend Creek.

The water rushed over the slippery rocks, bubbling and swirling, overflowing the edges, climbing up the muddy embankments. Steep sides were pounded until they crumpled, sending mud, rocks, trees, bushes, and other such debris flying down the creek. Beaver damns are wiped out. Small bridges are washed away.

And one little storm turns a little creek like North Bend into a raging river.

Nick reined in his horse at the top of the ridge. "Damn." he breathed. "That sure wasn't no little storm."

Jarrod came up beside him. After a low whistle, he pushed his hat back on his head. "And here I was thinking the short rain meant a little good luck."

"Yea, well, good luck wouldn't be our luck, now, would it?" Nick grumbled. With a kick, he directed his horse down the slope. "Come on. The boy's gotta be up to his neck in that muck by now."

Down the ridge, the two brothers rode along the embankment, sometimes cutting back into the bushes when the water was impassable.

Jarrod couldn't help but urge his mount a little faster, watching the creek grow wider and wider, deeper and deeper with every step. He tried not to think of Heath floating in an icy river, chained to the bottom, his lips a tell tale blue…

"Heath!" Nick called out, tired of waiting for his young brother to come into sight. "Heath, answer me, boy!"

A winnie sounded from a little ways off, around a bend in the river.

Nick stood up in the stirrups. "Did you hear that?"

Jarrod smiled slightly. He could always count on Nick's impatient to come up with results. Not always the results they wanted, but, alas, results.

Impatient as always, Nick kicked his horse into a trot, riding up and over the next ridge.

Gal was trotting up the embankment to meet them, throwing her head, her ears back.

Nick reached out to snatch at her bridle, but the mare ripped her head around, snapping her teeth a his fingers. He quickly jerked his hand back, cussing at the horse. "What the hell got into you?"

When the horse spun about, hooves pounding the soft mud, Nick saw passed her.

"Heath!" Nick yelled, kicking his horse. But he hadn't gotten five feet down the path before something slammed into his saddle just in front of his leg.

The horse reared with a scream, throwing Nick back into the bushes. He slammed, falling against a clump of rocks and shrub, just in time to hear a second shot zip through the air just above his head.

* * *

"Mrs. Barkley." called Silas as he stepped into the room. "There's some callers for you Mrs. Barkley."

Victoria looked up from her daughter. "Callers?" she wondered. Who would come visiting in this weather?

"Maybe… maybe someone else got caught in the storm." Audra suggested, pulling her warm robe tighter around her shoulders.

Victoria glanced at her. She didn't want to leave her daughter's side. The girl had just only calmed down enough to stop trembling.

"Yes, ma'am, Miss. Audra." Silas answered. "They look wet clear through. But they look to be a hard pair. And, Mrs. Barkley… they be wearing Marshal tins. I think they be the fellows Master Jarrod sent off just yesterday."

Victoria remembered the pair. She rose to her feet. "Audra, stay here." she ordered her daughter. Then, straightening her skirt, she started for the door. "Show them to the study, Silas. And bring some towels. Let's see what these gentlemen want."

The two Marshals were dripping rain water on the floor, thought, to their honor, they were trying to keep their things bundled and in one place.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am." the little one greeted Victoria as she glided into the room. "We don't mean no mess on your fine place."

Victoria smiled her best, dismissing the mess with a wave of the hand. "Gentlemen, please, come in. Will you care for some brandy?" She stepped over to the liquor and crystal glasses.

"Sure…" the big one started, but the little guy shook his head. "No, ma'am, but thank you. We were hoping to talk with your son once more… Jarrod Barkley?"

Victoria settled herself on the edge of a couch, spreading her skirt about her, the perfect image of a lady of the house. "My son? I am afraid that Jarrod is not available at this time. Perhaps I may assist you?"

The two exchanged glances, then the little one stepped forward. "Ma'am, I am Marshal Craig, this Marshal Jones. We were tracking the brutal murderers of a Wells Fargo stage driver, his guard, and the three innocent civilians that had the misfortune of riding along."

"Yes, nasty business." She played the lady very well. "But I was to understand that the trail was leading away from our ranch…?"

"They faked us." Jones admitted, kicking the toe of his boot with frustration.

Victoria blinked.

"It was a false trail." Craig explained. "That's where they started down one way then back tract, so as too waste our time…"

"Not to mention gain some time and distance for themselves." Victoria explained back. Yes, she was familiar with the tactic.

Craig smiled slightly, realizing that this woman wasn't just a fragile lady of the house. "Yes, ma'am. I believe these desperadoes might have found themselves a little alcove or such to lay low in while Jonesy and I wander the wilds looking for them." He glanced around the room. "I was really hoping your son might reconsider helping us out… I'd hate to be running blind around your little ranch here… wasting time checking out each and every one of your men, cabins, shacks, camps… basically getting in the way…"

Victoria raised her chin, her jaw set. She did believe that this law man was trying to bully her. She did not liked to be bullied.

Still, Audra's story leaped to mind… she said they had found a Wells Fargo bag.

On one hand she was obligated to them about this discovery. One the other hand, that would put her sons, one already hurt, right in the middle of a shooting war.

"My son, Heath, was hurt in the storm." she admitted, choosing her words carefully. "My other two sons went out to help him, bring him home."

"Hurt, huh?" Jones mumbled, not really caring if her son was hurt, dead, buried, or whatever. "So we wait or what?" he asked his partner.

But Craig's eyes narrowed as he studied the woman. "Hurt how?"

Victoria tilted her head to one side.

The Marshal shook a finger at her. "What did he find?" he hissed.

The Lady Barkley steadied herself. "A piece of cloth… A Wells Fargo bag."

Jones took a step forward. "Damn. You were right, Craig. Them bastards are here!"

Craig hissed at him, silencing him, before turning his attention back to the lady. "Where?" he demanded.

Victoria rose to her feet. "My sons…"

"Are in a world of danger if they run into those two cold blooded…"

"And if you run into my sons instead?" Victoria demanded. "Or if they happen to be in the middle when you find your men?"

Jones scratched his chest. "Well, hope they can keep their heads down." he chuckled.

Craig shook his head. "My priority is justice. We will do what we can to keep the innocent safe. But we will bring these bandits down… by whatever means necessary." he promised.

Victoria clasped her hands in front of her and smiled her most ladylike. "And I will protect my family by whatever means necessary." she promised right back.

The big Marshal cursed, spinning about and kicking a chair.

"Jonesy!" Craig snapped, but kept his eyes on the woman. "Jones, go take care of the horses. I'll be there in a moment."

"Humph." Jones grumbled, but, nonetheless, turned and sloshed out of the room and out the front door.

"Mrs. Barkley." Craig tried again. "I don't want to see your sons hurt. But, if they are out there with those bad men on the loose, then they're likely to get hurt. The best thing is for me to get my men and get off of your land. You can't argue that."

"Marshal, you assume that my sons can not look after themselves." Victoria smiled. "I assure you… that is not the case."

"Really?" Craig bobbed his head. "You say a son was hurt in the storm. Was a bear trap involved?" He saw his answer in the flinch in her eyes. "Ruggy… he's a mean little bastard, ma'am. He likes setting traps. He likes seeing steel teeth cutting into a man's flesh." He shrugged. "Jarrod was right: Jonesy and I are tough, heartless lawmen. But there's a reason men like us are sent after men like Ruggy. If your son is in that bear trap… well, ma'am, he's gonna need men like us."

* * *

Heath grabbed a rock and threw it at the bushes. "Damn you! They're not marshals!" he yelled at the outlaws hidden somewhere out of sight. When no answer came, he turned back to see what had happened to his brother.

Nick's horse was limping, wandering off and up stream, Gal nipping at his hindquarters as if trying to get him out of the way. Up the path behind the horses, Heath could barely see Jarrod's hat and Nick's boots being dragged through the weeds, disappearing down behind cover.

His brothers were here!

Here to rescue him!

And they were gonna get shot up…

… Killed over him!

And all he could do was sit there, shivering, bleeding, helpless…

Frustrated, Heath jerked his trapped leg.

Steel teeth dug deeper, ripping through already damaged skin and muscle, renewing the blood flow, and sending all new, fresh waves of pain up his leg. Waves of nausea struck Heath and he had to chop his teeth down to keep from being sick.

"Heath!" came Jarrod's voice. "Heath, sit still!"

Blinking away tears, Heath looked up. He couldn't see his brother, but just hearing him seemed to ease the panic. "Nick alright?"

"Yea, yea!" came Nick's angry voice. "What the hell did you get yourself into, boy?"

Heath closed his eyes in relief, dropping his head. But a splash of water reminded him that the creek had risen too high for him to slouch.

"Hey, you Marshals!" came a yell from the other side. As if that wasn't enough to catch their attention, a bullet ripped through Heath's sleeve, cutting a shallow, but bloody track down his arm and into the water.

Heath jerked away from the burn of the bullet, again jerking his leg at the end of the trap. Pain ripped through his body.

The Barkley answer came in the form of a yelled curse and gun fire.

"Nick!" Heath could hear Jarrod snap, and the Barkley answer, grudgingly, stopped. "Heath, you okay?"

Clutching his bleeding arm, Heath ground his teeth. Oh, how he wanted to answer `Hell, no! Does it look like I'm alright?' But he knew that would send, at least, Nick charging like a crazed bull down the embankment, to his side, and right into a hail of bullets.

Grunting, Heath called back "Oh, just fine and dandy. Enjoying myself a bit of a soak here." He flinched as another bullet struck the water only just barely missing his shoulder. "Damn it, I told you…" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Heath…" Jarrod called, rising up for all to be seen.

"Jarrod! Get down!" Heath snapped, but his brother wasn't listening.

Holding his arms out, Jarrod stood in full view. "You men!" he called across the creek. "I don't know who you are. I don't care. But that's my brother down there and that I do care very much about!"

"Well, then, Marshals, you shouldn't have come a'huntin' us."

Jarrod frowned. "Marshals?"

Heath exploded "I told you! We're not marshals! We are not…"

Another bullet struck the water.

"Hey!" Jarrod snapped. "That is enough!" He took a step forward, but stopped, hands raising up.

Ruggy rose up out of hiding, his rifle at his shoulder, taking a bead on the lawyer. "Stay right where I can see you, Marshal."

"Jarrod, get your ass down!" Nick hissed.

But Jarrod stayed right where he was. His sharp eyes watched as the outlaw edged down to stand behind his younger brother. That rifle was only a couple yards away from the back of Heath's head. It would take a blind man to miss the boy, sitting, helpless, defenseless, like a dead duck.

Licking his lips, Jarrod began to speak, keeping his tone calm: "We are not the Marshals. Yes, they were here… yesterday. They watered their horses, asked us about the territory, then rode on… south." He nodded toward Heath. "All I want is my brother. What you do, where you go… that is none of my business."

Ruggy smiled slightly. "South, huh?"

From the bushes came Tink's voice "Followin' that trail you laid down. Man, you are one smart doggy, Ruggy."

Ruggy's eyes narrowed, shifting from brother to brother. "So, mister not-a-marshal, you think that's gonna make much of a difference here?" he wondered. "Shucks… if anything…" He glanced at Heath. "We just got ourselves a nice, little hostage."

"Like hell!" Nick snarled, bring his rifle to his shoulder.

"Nick!" Jarrod snapped at his brother, knowing damn well that if shooting started Heath would be the first to die.

Ruggy looked at Heath, smiling at the boy's hard, blue eyes glaring back. "You know, Tink and I, we been kinda betting on how that there boy's gonna go. See, Tink, he thinks the boy's gonna freeze to death before much longer. Me…" He paused to rub his chin. "I think the kid's tougher than he looks all hunkered down there, shivering like a kitten. Now that trap there, it's anchored damn good. Busted up like he is, now way he's pulling free before that river rises over his head… what you think? Another foot should do it. Yea… My bet's he's gonna drown before too much longer." Ruggy shrugged. "'Course we could both be wrong. He could bleed to death. The cold might get him. Or, maybe, some tree could come sailing down the river and whack him one. Hell, maybe you'll decide to shoot it out and little brother down there will catch a stray bullet… or six."

Jarrod's eyes snapped to Heath.

His brother was pale. Blood tinted the water as if sloshed around his shoulders. Heath was gritting his teeth, keeping them from chattering. His head kept wobbling, like he was only breaths away from losing conscious. Despite it all, Heath looked back with those strong eyes, ready to fight, even if he had nothing left to fight with.

Setting his jaw, the elder Barkley looked back at the outlaw. "What do you want?"

* * *

Night had fallen and the world was dark for the exception of the glow of the moon and stars that made it through the tree branches.

Nick always liked riding this time of night. Just him and big, beautiful world.

Most nights, anyhow…

Nick's rifle came to his shoulder as a buckboard rattled into view. Eyes narrowed, he peered through the darkness until he could make who sat at the reins. "Mother! What in the world…" he roared, sliding down from his perch to the Old Hunter's Road.

Victoria pulled her buckboard to a stop. "Nick…!"

Two riders came up along side her and Nick's rifle started up again.

"Nick, wait!" Victoria hurried to stop him. "They're Marshals."

"I know who they are." Nick snarled. "They're the damn badge toters who's got ever criminal in the valley looking for some human shield. Shoot first, ask question after the bodies are buried and paid for!" he spat his rage at them.

Marshal Craig smiled at him. "Well, I suppose you've had a run in with Ruggy."

Nick's eyes narrowed. "Little, mean fella, likes to talk it up?" At Craig's nod, Nick huffed. "Oh, yea, we've met. Put a bullet in my saddle."

Victoria rose up sharply. "Nick…"

Her son waved his hand. "I'm fine."

"And Heath?" she asked softly, almost hoping he would miss the question, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"Alive." Nick growled, his attention still focused on the Marshals he blamed for this mess. "Though there's apparently bets down on how long that'll last."

If the night wasn't cold enough, the news was enough to send a shiver through the mother, and Victoria sand back down to her seat.

Craig looked Nick up and down. "So… what's your plan?" he wanted to know.

Nick adjusted his gun belt. "Well… Jarrod's up there keeping them talking, keeping Heath awake. I was starting around, see if'n I can't get up behind them." He smirked at the Marshals. "'Course, you being here saves us a whole load of time and effort." He shook a finger at them. "They've decided to hold Heath hostage."

"For what? What do they want?" Victoria demanded.

"Them." Nick jabbed a thumb at Craig. "They'll trade Heath for their heads."

Craig glanced at his partner.

Jones' hand hovered over the butt of his pistol. "Yea? You thinking' to do that? All on your lonesome? Ain't even Nick Barkley that big."

"You wanna bet on it?" Nick challenged right back.

"Nick…" Victoria hushed her son.

"Jonesy, back down." Craig ordered. When he was sure his partner wouldn't draw, he turned back to Nick. "If you don't know, Jarrod sure does, even if you could hand us over, you and your brothers would be dead ten breaths later."

Victoria raised her chin. "We don't trade in lives, Marshal Craig." she assured. She gave Nick that look, just incase.

"Yea, sure." Nick growled his agreement.

Craig worked his jaw, thinking. "Alright, Barkley. Me and Jonesy will hit them from behind. Ruggy's smart, but arrogant. He thinks everything comes through the front door."

"And as soon as you hit, Ruggy puts a bullet in the back of Heath's head." Nick crossed his arms. "Uh… No."

"As soon as we hit, you get the boy out of there." Craig shrugged. "Then you can go home, dry off, warm up, safe and sound with the knowledge that we have taken care of the business."

"Humph." Nick huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Safe and sound? My…"

Victoria cleared her throat.

Nick glanced at her. "Yea… well…"

Craig started to turn his horse down the road. "Stay close to your boys, Mrs. Barkley. This is going to get interesting." Then the two marshals were heading off into the dark.

"Nick." Victoria called to her son when they were alone. "How is Heath?" she wanted to know.

Nick took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Don't know." he admitted. "Can't get close enough for a good enough look. And you know Heath. Teeth clamped shut the moment we show any concern. But if don't get him warmed up soon…" He glanced up at her, before quickly turning back the way he came. He hated to see his mother so worried. "Stay close. He'll need the buckboard." Then he headed back up the path to rejoin Jarrod and fill him in on the half hatched plan.

* * *

Water sloshed around his chin.

Forcing his eyes open, Heath lifted his head a little higher. For a moment he stared up at the starry sky over head, marveling at its magnificence. So big, so wide, so open, so… so…. Cold…

It hurt to breath. His chest was so cold and tight. Shivering had left his muscles strained and tired. His fingers and toes had long ago stopped hurting, stopped feeling altogether. Numbness had crawled up his limbs. As long as he sat still, all he could feel from his wounded leg is the protruding steel teeth. He could feel them there, but no real pain.

This should worry him.

But Heath's limbs wasn't the only part numb. His thoughts came sluggishly, distracted by a whim.

For instance, there was a rifle aimed at the back of his head, he was bleeding and freezing to death, and all he could think of was `what a beautiful night sky.'

"Heath!"

The boy blinked.

"Heath, stay with us!"

Shaking his head, Heath frowned. Stay with who? Stay where? What was all the racket about?

Well, hell, now his head hurt.

"Boy, you better answer your not-a-marshal brother, 'fore he gets the idea to come on down here and check on you himself. All that'll do is get a bullet in both of you."

Heath stiffened as his memories snapped like a whip in his head.

Ruggy.

The river.

The trap.

Jarrod.

"Jarrod…" he breathed. He jerked his head up again, saying louder "Jarrod."

"Here, Heath." came Jarrod's calming voice. "Keep talking to me. Stay awake."

Behind him, Ruggy chuckled. "What you know… they might be right."

Heath glanced over his shoulder. "What?" he coughed.

"A family that talks to each other stays together." Ruggy chuckled again.

"Ruggy, I want you to know something." Heath had to stop to catch his breath. Damn, it was hard to breath!

"And what'd that be, Mister Not-a-Marshal?"

"I'm gonna see you dead." the boy promised.

"Yea? Well, now, that'd be a sight to see." Ruggy answered, unimpressed. 'Course he wasn't a stupid man, and he'd been watching that boy fight the cold and pain long enough to know Heath Barkley wasn't no little boy with little boy dreams and little boy promises. He knew, if given the chance, Heath Barkley would kill him.

Heath wrapped his arms around himself, grinding his teeth together. He just had to hold on. He had a goal now. Wait. Watch. Kill.

"Ruggy…" came a startled cry from behind.

Ruggy spun about, gazing into the darkness for his partner. "Tink…?"

The bushes where his partner had been hiding exploded with muzzle flashes and gun shots. An order to drop the weapon… gunfire… a scream… more gunfire…

The Marshals!

"Son of a…" Ruggy started. "You stupid ass! You just had to do it!" he snarled, turning back, rifle coming to his shoulder.

But Heath was gone.

"What the hell… No! Nooooo!" He charged into the bubbling river, kicking at the waves, trying to see where his hostage had disappeared to. "Mister Not-a-Marshal!" he roared, enraged beyond thought.

The water was running fast, up to his thighs. Hard to stand in. But he didn't care. Damn if he was gonna let it all go because the wrong stupid cowboy stepped into his trap!

Suddenly a hand wrapped around his ankle.

Ruggy stopped, looked down. Then he was falling back into the water, his feet yanked out from under him.

Heath's head exploded out of the water as he launched himself at his captor. But the trap hit the end of the chain, snapping his leg back, sending new flows of blood staining the blood. With a cry of pain and frustration died in gurgling as Heath's head disappeared under the water again.

Scrambling back onto the shore, Ruggy clawed his way out of reach. With a wordless roar, he jumped to his feet and spun on the boy. Rifle lost in the water, he grabbed at the pistol on his hip.

But Heath came up out of the water again, this time with the outlaw's rifle.

"Heath!" came a yell as Jarrod and Nick ran down the embankment behind him.

Heath fired.

The rifle clicked, harmlessly mucked up with water and mud.

Ruggy's pistol leveled with Heath's head. "You stupid, son of a…"

The Barkley big brothers fired simultaneously, sending two matching bullets slamming into Ruggy's chest, throwing him back into the mud.

Nick leaped over Heath, splashing across the river, reaching the outlaw and kicking the fallen gun out of reach.

"Heath!" Jarrod yelled again, grabbing his brother from behind just as he was slipping under the water again.

Instinctively, Heath began to fight back, trying to struggle free. Blinded with water, pain, and anger, he twisted, scratching at Jarrod's arms.

"Heath! Heath, stop! It's alright! It's me!" Jarrod tried to assure. "Nick, we got to free his leg… get him out of the water!"

Growling at the dead outlaw, Nick spun about. "Damn it."

Their young brother had collapsed back into Jarrod's arms, eyes closed, struggling to breath.

"Barkley!" yelled Craig as he broke through the bushes, guns at the ready. Behind him Jonesy shoved a wounded and shackled Tink ahead of him. "He dead?" he wanted to know, looking down at Ruggy.

"Help us!" Jarrod cried.

Swearing Craig hurried after Nick into the water. "He always breaks the latch." he advised the brothers. "We'll have to pry open the trap."

"Rifle." Nick quickly snatched up Ruggy's useless weapon.

The Marshal dove under the water, guiding the rifle barrel between the teeth of the trap. Coming up, he grabbed the butt. "Pull!" he ordered.

Gritting his teeth, Nick grabbed the rifle butt and pulled while the Marshal pushed.

Heath gasped, turning his face into Jarrod's arm.

"Almost…" Nick grunted.

"Pull him out!" Craig snapped.

Jarrod pulled on his brother. With a sudden release sending him stumbling back, he and Heath fell back, landing on the shore.

Nick hurried after, pulling his coat off and wrapping it around the blond. "Heath, boy, when you get into trouble…"

"Fine." Heath managed, his teeth chattering. "Next time… you… ch… chase after… o… our… Audra…" He squeezed his eyes closed, grasping at the fur of Nick's coat.

Jarrod chuckled, more with relief than amusement. "Come on. Lets get our boy home."

* * *

The doctor closed his bag and set back on the ottoman. He gave his handiwork one last look before pulling the blanket over his patient's legs, tucking it in.

"So, doc, he gonna keep all ten fingers and toes?" Nick wanted to know from where he stood in the doorway of the sitting room, his arms crossed over his chest.

Heath held up his hand, flexing his fingers in front of his eyes. Between the fire, blankets, and that something or other the doctor had spooned down his throat, he was starting to warm up some. Or at least feeling all tingly, which was better than being all numb, or drowned, or wet, or dead…

He squeezed his eyes closed and opened them again. Funny it didn't seem to be working on his head. His thoughts were still slow and muddy and something else…

The doctor took his hand and laid it in his lap. "He's a very lucky young fellow." he offered, laying a hand on Heath's forehead.

"Yea," Heath grumbled. "Feels like a whole world of luck came tumbling right on top of me." He shifted uncomfortably, wincing. His brain couldn't seem to figure out why he was still shivering… with a big, roaring fire just a couple of feet away and a pile of blankets on top of him.

"Yes, well," the doctor chuckled, patting his patient on the shoulder. "You look it. But some rest, some warmth… well, we'll just hold out hope for you." He rose to his feet, picked up his coat, and readied to leave.

"Oh, Doctor." Victoria greeted as she entered the room, a tray of hot food in her hands. Jarrod was a step behind with a steaming pitcher of coffee. "How's Heath?"

He bobbed his head in greeting. "Leg isn't broken, only fractured. Pretty chewed up, though. Got most of it all stitched up, but he'll have some nasty scars. And he's still shivering like a half drowned kitten…"

"Kinda looks like one too." Nick huffed, earning himself a glare from under wet blond bangs. "Oh, just keep it up, little brother. That creek isn't so far off I can't throw you right back into it."

"You certainly will not!" Audra protested.

"Humph." Nick huffed again, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course not, honey." Jarrod assured, throwing a protective arm around his sister, and throwing a glare at his brother. "We'll protect little, helpless, brother Heath from that big brute."

"Helpless?" Heath squeaked, though his protest was lost in a cough.

The other three responded with a shared laugh.

Victoria smiled at her children as she sank down to the ottoman beside the wounded boy. After a night of cold and worry, their laughter was music to her ears.

Even the doctor smiled. "Well, best you can do for him is keep him off his feet. Get some of the hot food in his belly. Keep him wrapped up. Keep those bandages fresh and I'll be back to check up on him tomorrow. Any fever, you send someone to fetch me." he instructed.

"Wrap him tight as can be." Jarrod promised. "Will you join us for breakfast, Doctor? Hate to send you back on an empty stomach."

"That's kind of you, Jarrod, but I got a few folks back in town needing tending." He bobbed his head to the women, then started out of the room.

"I'll walk you out, Doc." Nick offered. "You can tell me just how you expect us to keep that boy off his feet."

"Oh, Heath." Audra stepped away from Jarrod and sank to her knees at the head of the couch Heath was laying on. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." She laid her head on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have left you behind. I should have stayed and… and… Well, I should have done something!"

Heath blinked at her, his brow scrunched up in confusion. Damn, he wished he'd stop shivering long enough to think straight. "Audra…" he started, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes focused on her enough to think what to say.

Jarrod came to his rescue, crouching down beside his sister. "Audra, honey, you did exactly what Heath needed." he assured, taking her into his arms. "If you didn't come and get us, Heath was sure to have drowned. Shucks, honey, you saved his life."

Audra looked up at him. "I did?"

Jarrod smiled. "And you'll do him a world of good if you stopped leaning on him and let him get some shut eye." he advised, rising up, lifting Audra to her feet. "Go on. Go get yourself some breakfast."

She glanced down at her mother who gave her a nod and smile of encouragement. With a sigh, Audra hiked up her skirt. "Well, alright… but I'll be back to check on him. We'll have to take turns."

"Turns?" Jarrod asked as he watched his sister head for the door.

Glancing over her shoulder, Audra reminded him "Keeping Heath off his feet is like keeping a wild mustang from running. We're gonna have our hands full." Then she swished away to the dining room.

Victoria chuckled, shaking her head.

"Helpless." Heath growled. "Now I'm a horse." He frowned. "I might be all fuzzy, so's I might be wrong, but… am I in the right house?"

Jarrod laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "Brother Heath, you know only those who love you will insult you, threaten to throw you in a creek, and wrap you up warm all in the same room." Still, he took a moment to pull the blankets up, under his brother's chin.

Victoria smiled. "Are you hungry, sweet heart? Get some food in your belly, warm you up from the inside out."

"Maybe clear that head of yours up some." Jarrod pointed out. "Before you start seeing stars."

"Start?" Heath repeated. If he hadn't already started, then what the hell was following Nick in.

"Look what showed up for breakfast." Nick grumbled, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Marshal Craig stepped into the room, hat in hand. "Lawyer Barkley, ma'am." he bobbed his head in greeting. "Came to see how the boy was doin'. See we've got some open eyes."

"Yup." Nick agreed. "Open eyes, ten fingers, ten toes. Already to saddle up and mend some fences." He shook his finger at Heath. "Don't get any wild ideas in your head, either, boy. You're stayin' right there 'til the doc says otherwise." he huffed.

Heath looked even more confused. He looked at his mother. "I say somethin'?" he wondered.

Victoria sighed. Setting the tray aside, she rose to her feet. "I want to thank you, Marshal, for helping my boys."

"Well, ma'am, seems I owe your boys a bit for the going-ons." Craig stepped up to the couch and looked down at Heath. "Figure you getting hurt had some to do with me."

"Damn straight." Nick growled, but was silenced by a glare from Jarrod.

Craig, wisely, chose to clarify. "I wasted time on a false trail. Time I coulda used catchin' them outlaws before you and your sister rode up on them. For that, I'm sorry." From his pocket he took a roll of cash. "Now, in all honesty, it was you and your brothers that brought down Ruggy. And that little man had a big bounty on his head. It's only fair that you and they get it." He offered the roll to Heath.

Heath frowned at it. "What we do?"

"Please excuse our brother." Jarrod stepped in. "He's still suffering the influences of the lotamin the doctor gave him." He looked very seriously at the money in the Marshal's hand. "But, I can speak for him when I say we don't take payment for a man's life. Whether justified or not."

Craig frowned at them. "Well, if you think I'm callin' you all bounty hunters, I'm not. You folks did us a service. We only wanted to pay our dues."

"No, thank you." Victoria answered for them. Clasping her hands in front of her, she raised her head and told the Marshal in no uncertain terms "We do not take money for a man's life."

The Marshal dropped his hand. A look at the woman told him good and true they weren't going to take the money. Returning it to his pocket, he bobbed his head. "Well, ma'am, that's all up to you." He turned and started to leave, but he hesitated. Turning back, he looked the family over. "You all feel high and grand, safe and sound, don't you? Ever wonder why there aren't more men like Ruggy just snatching up your children left and right? How can good folk live good lives when there's such bad men doing such bad things in the world?" He shook a finger at them. "'Cause there's some equally mean and bad men out there hunting those outlaws. Oh, I don't begrudge you folks your life. I just wish a few of you might come to think of that little fact when it comes you take a night stroll or leave your windows open." Again he headed for the door.

"Marshal, one moment." Heath called after him. He tried to push himself up, but Jarrod laid a hand on his shoulder, holding him. "What happened… to the big one… Tink?" he wondered.

"Yea." Nick wanted to know too. "Come to think of it, all's out side was Jones and a couple baggage…" He stopped. As he remembered just the way that baggage laid over those mules' backs. "I'll be damn!" he cussed.

Craig set his hat on his head. "Sorry to say Tink was dumb as he was big. Tried to make a run for it. We had to take him down."

"Humph! I'm sure." Nick growled. It was more instinct and habit than threat that found his hand on the butt of the pistol hanging at his hip.

Jarrod stiffened. "Tell me, Marshal Craig, did this big, dumb outlaw every regained conscious before he made his daring escape attempt?"

Craig glanced at him. After a moment he bobbed his head one more time to Victoria, offering a final "Ma'am." then was out the door, leaving the Barkley family behind, more or less safe and sound.


End file.
